“Mason, you’re up, man.”
I blinked. Letting reality set in as Mason turned away from me and headed toward the table.
This was not supposed to be happening.
We were supposed to be friends. That was the only way this relationship, I cringed at the word in my own head, could work. Otherwise, one of us was going to get hurt. Because that’s what Mason and I did. We hurt people. Not intentionally. At least that’s what I told myself, but I refused to allow a man to get close enough to me to hurt me, and over the years, pushing guys away had somehow resulted in me hurting too many good ones.
But here I was watching Mason bend down and take the shot. I watched the way his back bunched under his t-shirt as he guided the pool stick between his fingers. I stared at his ass that looked ungodly perfect in his jeans, and I ran my fingers through my hair.
Mason Connor was not the guy I should be losing my head around. He was the opposite actually because for the first time in a very long time, I think I was truly at risk for a guy hurting me.
Just the thought had me setting down my own pool stick and heading to the bar. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away, but I didn’t care. Fuck, that was a lie. I was already caring too much, and that was why I needed another shot of tequila.
The bartender came up to me the moment I stepped up to the crowded bar and I ordered my shot. I turned my back to the bar as I waited for him to pour my choice of poison, and I looked around the bar. There were so many hot guys in that bar, but even glancing at them felt wrong somehow.
And it was exactly what I didn’t want.
We were friends for fuck’s sake.
I turned to face the bar again, and my gaze halted when it hit him. He was sitting on a bar stool, a beer in his hand, and he was watching me with a soft smile on his face.
Not the same predatory smile that he had been looking at me with earlier, but a smile that looked like he was happy. Happy that I was here. Happy that we were friends, and that smile was far more dangerous.
And even though it killed me to even think it, I knew that I needed to do something to distance myself from him because I wasn’t going to get played by Mason Connor. I refused to get hurt, but something deep inside of me told me that I refused to hurt him as well. It was how I knew that this wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t going to go any further than this night.
Mason
I wiped the sweat from my brow as I stared around the house. We were finally down to the finishing touches.
It was one of the largest projects my company had ever taken on, and if I was being honest, it had scared me shitless when the client had decided to go with my company, a company that had far less experience than the competition, but they fell in love with my plan.
And I couldn’t fuck this up.
There was too much riding on this project. Too much opportunity that would come from it.
“Knock knock.” I heard my sister’s voice before I could see her.
“In here,” I yelled out as I watched her step over tools on her way to me.
“Do I need a hard hat?”
“Considering the walls are up”—I looked around the room at the finished walls—“I would say no.”
She cocked her hip and rested her hand there. “Damn. I would have looked really cute in one.”
I rolled my eyes at her then pulled her into a hug. She cringed at my sweat, but I didn’t allow her to pull away from me.
“What do you think?”
She looked around the room as she wiped off her arm, and I tried to see it through her eyes. I tried to take it in as if I hadn’t spent hundreds of hours working on it.
“Seriously, Mason.” She turned to me. “It’s phenomenal.”
My chest bloomed with pride. “Thank you.”
“Well, let’s go. Give me a tour.”
I took her around, room by room, showing her what we had done. Pointing out all of my favorite details.
When we got to the master bathroom, she sat down on the toilet and looked around. “No offense, but I kind of can’t believe you did all this.”
I huffed as I crossed my arms, and she held her hands up defensively.
“It’s not that you did it. It’s just that I can’t believe I know someone who is capable of doing all this.”
“Thank you for your backhanded compliment, Livy.”
“You’re welcome.” She grinned then she narrowed her eyes at me. “Since we’re in here all alone, I think it’s time we had a talk.”
“A talk about what?” I knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. My sister was sweet and sassy as hell, and if there was one thing I could count on her for, it was that she would always be nosy when it came to me.
“Staci.”
“Ah.” I rubbed the back of my neck, and I could feel the stress that had been building there. Stress that hadn’t been there until the other night at the bar. The night that Staci went rigid as if I had done something wrong. Something that I had absolutely no idea what I did. One minute she was fine. The next, I could see it in her eyes. Her urge to run. To get away from me.
“What are your intentions with my best friend?” She crossed her arms and attempted to look intimidating.
“Shouldn’t you be asking her what her intentions with your brother are? Plus, I didn’t put you through this when we were in the opposite position.”
“I have talked to her about her intentions, but you’re the one I’m worried about. I’m not sure you have the best motives.” She stood and made her way over to me.
“What did Staci say her intentions were?” I tried to ask the question casually, but I knew it sounded anything but. Because I couldn’t figure the girl out if my life depended on it.
Livy narrowed her eyes farther. “She tells me that you two made a deal to be ‘friends’.” She actually did air quotes with her fingers when she said the word friends.
“We did.” I nodded. “We’re friends.”
“I call bullshit.”
I grinned at my ballbuster sister. “Why can’t Staci and I be friends?”
“You have seen her, right?” She waved her hand in the air. “Staci is a freaking babe. There is no way you can just be her friend and not want to get in her pants.” She stared back at me as she ran her fingers over the counter. “Again.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to get in her pants. I just said that we were friends.”
She watched me, and I could feel her assessing my every word.
“I’ll ask you again. What are your intentions with my best friend?”
“Honestly?” I scratched at my beard that I hadn’t shaved in several days.
Her face softened a bit, and she nodded her head.
“I’m trying to be her friend while simultaneously trying to not be friend-zoned. I’m trying my damnedest not to freak her out while she figures out that she wants to be more than my friend.” It was the first time I had said those words, even to myself. It may have been the first time I really realized what the hell I was actually doing.
And it knocked the damn wind out of me.
I didn’t do relationships. I didn’t, but I was willing to try. For her.
“I knew it.” She smiled, a huge smile, and I couldn’t stop my own smile from taking over my face.